


Dawning

by xanzpet (gleefulmusings)



Series: Facets [3]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Pre-Slash, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-02
Updated: 2013-04-02
Packaged: 2017-12-07 05:51:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/745022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gleefulmusings/pseuds/xanzpet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angel knows how to push buttons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dawning

Angel grabbed Xander by his shoulders and threw him against a row of rusty orange lockers, forcing himself to dismiss the resulting wince.

"Say it," the vampire growled.

"I don't know what you mean," the boy answered in a curiously blank voice.

"Tell me."

"Nothing to tell, Deadboy."

"I don't believe you," Angel roughly countered.

"I don't care what you think. I don't care about you at all."

The vampire bent down and put his face to the boy's ear. "You care, Xander. That's what you do. You _care_."

The boy squeezed shut his eyes and turned his head.

And Angel finally knew.

He sensed the lust, the love, and the guilt. He sensed the confusion, the innocence, and the sorrow.

He sensed Xander's agony at his perceived betrayal of Buffy and their friendship, of Giles and his loss, and of his duplicity against Cordelia.

Above all, however, Angel sensed the boy's shame and knew nothing more would ever come of this inquiry because Xander was too noble to fight for that which he truly wanted.

The vampire hesitated momentarily before forcibly pulling Xander's head back to face him once more.

Xander kept his eyes closed and Angel was glad, for now he wouldn't have to see eyes which burned with mortification, self-loathing, and resentment. Hate, feigned or not, would be much easier to bear.

He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on the boy's forehead before releasing him and stalking away, his duster swirling around his calves.

He ignored the choked sob, the sound of knees giving way, and the low moan of humiliation. He was at the front door of the school when the echo of angry heels stomping on linoleum hit his ears.

He fled into the night when Cordelia's worried, tinny voice anxiously asked the boy to tell her what was wrong.


End file.
